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Normally I’m immune to the charm of all the visual puns and cute jokes surrounding the phrase “spanking the monkey”. But this image (an illustration by Heinrich Kley) is in a class by itself. I can’t decide whether it’s funny or horrifying:
Speaking as a man, I’d have to say this is why a fig of fresh ginger is my personal choice of chemical irritants to torment Bethie with:
Firey Jack for those that don’t know is an ancient and masochistic remedy for muscle pulls and back pain etc etc. It’s a muscle warming ointment made from chilli oil. Hot hot hot like you can’t imagine. To be used SPARINGLY. (Or so the darling carinna/polly told us as she handed us a pot as a “present”. Mmmm cheers polly no I haven’t forgotten.)
So Colbeh being ever enthusiastic and not someone to do anything by halves, does the usual buggery/fucking/beating thing, ensuring a suitably red hot caning is present as a tenderiser upon my peach like derrière, and slathers the stuff on to me. Nothing seems to be going on, so he slathers some more on. About 2 minutes later I feel like I have serious and heavy sunburn, my arse is glowing with heat enough to keep the arctic warm.
This is all apparently exciting to a dominant, so he does what excited Doms do naturally. I become aware not only is my arse on fire but my inner tracts (great word huh?) are now burning. At the very same moment, HE becomes aware his most precious and personal sex weapon is aflame and the pair of us flee to the bathroom. Me unsuccessfully showering like a manic creature, and him leaping around the bedroom with a cold flannel wrapped round his (still surprisingly engorged) manhood.
Although I tease about alternative uses for Mongolian Fire Wok Oil, the nice thing about fresh ginger is that it goes where I put it — and (mostly) stays there.
Don’t get your hopes up too far, spankos. True, this is arguably a very hot spanking picture:
Alas, it’s also the only spanking picture offered with this light bondage plus sweaty rough sex shoot from Sex And Submission.
I like the way this spanking begins:
He takes his belt – the stiffer, black one, and flicks it at me. The tip goes wild and I yelp angrily as it wraps itself all the way around my leg and snaps my upper inner thigh. My hand clasps the area, covering the angry red welt blossoming on my milky white skin.
My eyes flash; I rear back. I insist that he cannot do it again.
Moments later I am up against the back of the couch, olive green cushions resting against that same welt on my thigh. I am leaning forward, arms folded on the shelf a bit behind the couch. My chin rests lightly on the cup formed by my folded hands. He’s holding his light brown Italian leather belt.
It always entertains me when strident protestations morph swiftly into the functional equivalent of “More! Harder!”
It’s not hard to find spanking photos showing some pretty young thing clutching her bottom. But there’s something about Elizabeth Simpson’s body language in this caning vidcap that convinces me she’s clutching in earnest:
Here’s a report from Library Girl about a dinner party she attended where many of the guests were “the usual suspects” from the famous Shadow Lane spanking parties. It certainly sounds like a good time was had by all:
After her hairbrushing, and Dolores’ caning, and my pink panty picture, TG dragged Chelsea and Erica in for their pictures. “For the site!” she said. “You have to!”
They were both great models. They are both amazingly slim and athletic looking. Erica put her hands on the bed and bent over. Matt used the thick strap, all the while TG is saying “She needs more color…” I took several pictures, and eventually TG was satisfied with the color content of Erica’s bottom.
